"The Traveler sent me a vision...an old memory," Ilyara said, reaching up to absently brush a hand over her right bicep.  "There's no clever way outta this, just gotta rip off the bandage and do what we can to help Mr. Claus recover."

"Less than a double clutch of hours remain, please hurry!"

"...right.  Well, somebody's got to try," Ilyara said, muttering a brief Guidance before steeling herself and reaching for the scarab.

{Strength check 13, plus a Bardic Inspiration if anybody wants to lend me one?  Heh, gotta get through this quick-like, fellers!}

Ely's strength check: 18

OOC: SONO’MAFARGINBACHE! I missed the action again! Hol’up ☝️

🙏  Thank you for your patience while this post is was under renovation.  🚧

Quote from Wysperra >>

As an encore to Elyona's performance, Toots makes a brilliant display of colors and fireworks! *Pish Pish* *FOOM!*

Hands on hips Santa cheers, "Nicely done!" He rubs his hands together and looks at you expectantly, "Now, how about that fire?" he looks up, and you hear him mutter, "yup, this boy don't climb."

 
“Thanks Santa.” Toots says a bit sheepishly. “Sure thing, I can whi….”

Quote from Yurei1453 >>

In answerance, Ilyara fishes her tinderbox out of her pack.  "If we can find some dry fuel, I can get a fire going real quick.  Pro'ly best not to do magical fires, that kinda seems like cheatin'.  It ain't a chimney if it ain't taking smoke, after all.  Anybody got any wood, or dried bone if there's nothing else?" Ilyara muttered, looking around herself for fire fuel.

 
“Yeah, I have a bunch’a….”

Quote from ArwensDaughter >>

”if we need to, we can probably sacrifice a few crossbow volts to the fire.  Oh, and I have some torches. “

Quote from Yurei1453 >>

"Ohh, yeah!  Four or five torches should make for a good, cozy little fire!  Got some oil with me I can use to get 'em going nice and quick, get Mr. Klaus back on his way!"

 
“Yeah but he’s still got the….”

Quote from Wysperra >>

Seeing the fire and smoke waft up into the hole in the ceiling, he grins, puts his finger beside his nose, "Thanks boys and girls." and makes a little hop...

Then another...He grunts in irritation and growls "This thing is taking my magic. I can't get out of here with it stuck to me." Holding his shirt open, he looks at you imploringly.

 
“Well we haven’t tri….”

Quote from Yurei1453 >>

"...I got no ideas left for gettin' it free, other'n the hard way...without knowin' how t' turn it on or off, all I can do is try an' pry it free...do any of you maybe remember anything 'bout this supposed 'treasure' of the nobility's?  Maybe something like a command word, or some other way'a gettin' the blasted thing to let go?  Or, maybe...I'm gonna try something.  Let me be for a little bit."

Ilyara wanders off to find a somewhat more secluded corner, settling down into it and pulling her icon of the Traveler off from around her neck.  Perching it on her bag of bearings, she sets out three of her candles in a triangle around the propped-up icon and lights them with a flinder from the fire, creating a tiny little impromptu shrine to the Traveler.  Perching cross-legged with her wonderful, shimmery new blade in her lap, Ilyara folded her hands over the weapon, closed her eyes, and sought to reach out to her deity, praying to the Traveler.

"Traveler...Wayfinder...Seeker of Lost Roads...I beg you, I need your help.  Whoever's in charge of this horrible mountain has captured th' Saint of the North, and we're the only people who can free him in time to save Christmas.  Stories of the Saint, tales of Christmas miracles...whimsy's real hard to come by down in Lowtown, down where children are thrilled if'n they can get a little meat in their nightly bowl'a gruel.  It's a hard life, but the Saint makes it just a little softer.  Please, Goddess.  I don't want to hurt th' Saint of the North...I don't want to hurt Santa Claus.  I want to free him from this benighted place, send him back to th' roads he's meant to travel instead'a being cooped up here to rot.  I know I ain't played any good tricks lately, and I went and got my dumb self captured for a while like an unclever bint...but I promise to make it up to you.  Please...just a hint.  Please, point us at what we're missin'.  Let us have one last chance to save Christmas."

  
•muttering•

Quote from Yurei1453 >>

Ilyara's eyes opened, her chin tilting up.  She grinned, reaching out to douse her candles, and reclaimed her amulet of the Traveler, bringing it up to her lips for a brief, soft kiss.  "Thank you," she whispered, before turning back to the group at large.

"Okay!  Elyona, you an' I're on fixin' duty.  I'm real sorry, Mr. Claus...but the only real way this happens is the hard way.  I've got enough of the Traveler's fire left in me to patch you right back up though, and if I don't Ely here sure will.  I...I hope you won't think less of me for this, but I won't mind too much if you do.  Just make sure some'a the street rats down in Lowtown get an extra piece of candy in their stockin's this year, if I could ask...?"

Once the others were ready, Ilyara grit her teeth, steeled her mind, and silenced her wailing inner child...and turned to Elyona.  "Hey, could you...maybe do it?  I don't got the biggest muscles, but I've seen those hammers in your sleeves...don't wanna risk messing it up and hurtin' Mr. Claus worse than we hafta..."

Quote from ArwensDaughter >>

"If I understand you correctly, Ilyara, you want me to try to yank that thing off.  Is that correct?  Are you o.k. with that, Mr. Claus?"

Quote from Wysperra >>

"Please."

Quote from Yurei1453 >>

"The Traveler sent me a vision...an old memory," Ilyara said, reaching up to absently brush a hand over her right bicep.  "There's no clever way outta this, just gotta rip off the bandage and do what we can to help Mr. Claus recover."

Quote from Wysperra >>

"Less than a double clutch of hours remain, please hurry!"

 
“NOW ALL’A YOUSE HOLD THE HELLS UP JUST A GODSDAMNED MINUTE!” Toots roars at 3× her normal volume, her costume seeming to flutter a bit with the force of her exclamation. Then quietly: “‘Cept fer you Tom’ry, you’re fine.”

In her normal volume she continues: “This was the very first thing I suggested way back when, the whole ‘killing Santa’ thing…” she gestured with air quotes for emphasis, “…was just supposed to be the potentially ‘less painful’ backup option.” Toots had again emphasized her point with air quotes. “Now, that thing looks like it’s pro’ly stuck on there but good, so we’d better give it all we got.”

🎼“Come on Ely, you’re my Hin!
Rip that ****er from his skin!”

”Ily, I know you can do it!
Go on, put your back in to it!”🎶

OO : Elyona and Ilyara each have 1d8 Bardic Inspiration.

“Now, I’ll help Ely pull on the doohickey, and Tom’ry, you help Ily pull on Santa. SHITBALLS! Ily should pro’ly be helping you ‘cause yer stronger, but **** it, I’m not cheering again now so we’re gonna hafta just go with it. Okay now everybody, on the count of three. One! Two! Two and a Half! THREE!”

Edits: Brokent tooltip, spacing, punctuation. (See, I tol'yas I was too slow tonight, took me 4ish 5ish hours just to get this one post right. 🤦‍♂️ 😅 😒

Working together, Elyona and Ilyara grip the scarab. When they do, it digs its claws in into flesh eliciting a grunt of pain from the Saint of Nicks.

The harder they pull, the deeper the legs dig. Blood begins to stream from the wounds, and Santa's face scrunches in anguish, and he cries out in agony!

Elyona, knocks the man to the ground and both ladies place feet on the shoulders of the red coat. "rrrrRRRRRRAAAHHHHH!" they shout! Pulling and pulling! You hear the tearing of flesh and the scarab is set free at last.

Panting in exhaustion and a bit of fear, you see Santa lying on the ground, a pool of blood filling the hole in his chest staining his white shirt crimson.

EDIT: never mind, don't have Cure Wounds somehow q_q

Third-level healing Word, followed by three first-levels.  Everything she has left.

14
5
6
6

OOC: Fuggoff, forum DX.  I can roll those fresh, if that works better?

"Come on, Mr. Claus!  We gotta get you fixed up, then Tootsie can clean you up and you can get back to work!"

OOC: Oh for the love of Mary! 🙄

IC: Toots blows every spell slot she has left on goodberry (2× Each 1st, 2nd, and 3rd-level, and 1× 4th-level) and crams 70 HP down Santa’s gullet. Then she spiffies him up, gives him a “go team” slap on the ass, and starts to ritually cast her tent.

OOC: Sposta needs a long rest. Cue mic drop:

🎤👇

Thank you Urth, we love you, goodnight.

OOC: Sorry, Sposta.  Hard timers can get under my skin sometimes, makes me impatient.  I'll ride herd on it better in the future.  But yeah, I'm zorched on slots.  Got a beltful of cantrips and hopefully an awesome story about saving Christmas, and that's 'bout it.

OOC: Nahh, no need to apologize. I’m not upset or anything, sorry if I gave that impression. I’m apparently just incapable of keeping up with youse tonight is all. Youse just go right on ahead and keep on keeping on. I’ma just hafta catch up tomorrow (or the next day) no big deal. Whenever yous’re all ready for long rest, you know where to find the tent, and where Toots’ll be.

🎄 Merry Christmas Everyone!! 🎅🏼

Pumping power and enchant down into the limp bloody form hoping...

The body slowly goes from warm to cold even as berries are crammed into his mouth and into the ragged chest hole.

No breath, no motion.

The body becomes even colder yet, and frost begins to form.

The blood crystalizes and becomes ice. Even the warm clothing becomes frosted and icy.

Then there is a barely perceptible quiver.

AAAHHHHCHHOOOOOO!

I huge bloody snot icy sneeze issues from the dead? Santa body.

He shivers and shakes, then the icicles around his eyes snap open. "AH! I hate the cold, it gives me the sneezes!"

The Saint of Winter struggles to his feet and smiles and laughs "HO...HO...HOHOHOHO! Thank you. Thank you so very much."

He gives each of you a hug, then winks, puts his finger beside his nose and in a puff of icy particles he shoots up and out of the chimney

As he fades from view you hear him cry "Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas one and all!"

A handful of larger flakes float down to land at each of your feet. Each one a glistening work of art, with your name picked out in ice.

You have each been gifted a Boon of Father Christmas

https://www.dndbeyond.com/magic-items/1184267-boon-of-father-christmas

OOC: Oh yeah, WELCOME TO LEVEL 9!

OOC: You mean we level up, or is Nine the boss of this level <rimshot>?  I'd love to see Nine actually slaughter all of us but Toots and Toots is so torn she's left with nothing but firing her hand cross bow into the air in anguish as her love for Nine compels her to let them gets away, something like this:

I used Point Break Keanu instead of David Frost in Hot Fuzz as I think there's something about Patrick Swayzey's eyes through that mask that Nine's visage likely captures.  It'd be worth the torn up character sheets.

Happy Christmas, very belated Hanukkah, semi belated Solstice or whatever celebration brings your winter light.

Quote from Wysperra >>

OOC: Oh yeah, WELCOME TO LEVEL 9!

 
OOC:  
No Feats, right?

Quote from IamSposta >>

No Feats, right?

OOC: Correct, no campaign breaking crutches ;)